Lawrence came down to the funeral, and I took good care that he should hear all about his father’s last hours, and I made the solicitor show him the unsigned will. He made hardly any comment on it till we three were alone together. Then with a sort of kindly patronage he turned to his brother--Derrick, it must be remembered, was the elder twin--and said pityingly, “Poor old fellow! it was rather rough on you that the governor couldn’t sign this; but never mind, you’ll soon, no doubt, be earning a fortune by your books; and besides, what does a bachelor want with more than you’ve already inherited from our mother? Whereas, an officer just going to be married, and with this confounded reputation of hero to keep up, why, I can tell you it needs every penny of it!” Derrick looked at his brother searchingly. I honestly believe that he didn’t very much care about the money, but it cut him to the heart that Lawrence should treat him so shabbily. The soul of generosity himself, he could not understand how anyone could frame a speech so infernally mean. “Of course,” I broke in, “if Derrick liked to go to law he could no doubt get his rights, there are three witnesses who can prove what was the Major’s real wish.” “I shall not go to law,” said Derrick, with a dignity of which I had hardly imagined him capable. “You spoke of your marriage, Lawrence; is it to be soon?” “This autumn, I hope,” said Lawrence; “at least, if I can overcome Sir Richard’s ridiculous notion that a girl ought not to marry till she’s twenty-one. He’s a most crotchety old fellow, that future father-in-law of mine.” When Lawrence had first come back from the war I had thought him wonderfully improved, but a long course of spoiling and flattery had done him a world of harm. He liked very much to be lionised, and to see him now posing in drawing-rooms, surrounded by a worshipping throng of women, was enough to sicken any sensible being.